by Kim Lawrence
‘I enjoy work, and I doubt it’s harder than looking after the twins twenty-four hours a day.’ Lindy liked exhaustion—she needed exhaustion! Sometimes she thought the locum job in the casualty department at St Jude’s, where her brother-in-law was a consultant surgeon, had saved her sanity. She had moved back home to her parents’ farm and she was a frequent visitor at Anna’s rambling home. It should have been impossible to feel lonely whilst surrounded by her loving family. Yet for some reason her sense of isolation increased daily.
‘What have you done with Adam, Lindy?’ Hope asked, looking around as if she expected to see him materialise.
‘On the twins’ list of priorities you come way down below the new kittens. Am I right?’ Anna asked Lindy.
Lindy nodded. ‘They hijacked him.’
Anna had taken on her husband’s twin four-year-old nephews when they had married, along with a teenage niece and an older boy who was now twenty. To top that she was now expecting twins of her own, and showed every indication of thriving on what would have exhausted a lesser mortal.
‘Are you staying long?’ Lindy asked Hope, stroking the ears of the dog that had placed its head in her lap.
‘Flying visit,’ Hope said. ‘I spent the morning with Mum and Dad. It’s a hive of activity at the farm. Mum’s been wildly baking for a WI thing at the farm tonight.’
‘Why do you think I’m here? You need psychological counselling before you can take an evening of those ladies.’ They took a great interest in all things romantic, and Lindy didn’t feel up to a grilling, even a good-natured one.
‘Talking of emotional states…?’ Hope let the question hang in the air.
‘If I ever meet this Sam Rourke I’ll give him a piece of my mind,’ Anna said grimly. ‘Push that dog down, Lindy, she knows she’s not allowed on the furniture.’
‘Since when?’ Some rules were flexible in her sister’s house. The brindled mongrel gave her a melting look as she nestled more comfortably on her lap. Lindy had told Anna part, if not all, of the story. What choice did she have? Hope would have if she hadn’t. At least there was very little likelihood of the scenario Anna had mentioned coming to pass.
‘Actually, Anna, you might get the opportunity.’ Hope had both her sisters’ undivided attention. ‘I came over with Sam. We’re here to plug the film. We recorded the programme last night and it’s going out over the weekend. When I said the visit was flying, I meant it literally. We’re due in Paris tomorrow. He’s picking me up later.’
Lindy had stopped listening; her sister’s travel arrangements held little interest. She got to her feet, tipping the dog unceremoniously onto the floor. The animal regarded her reproachfully and flopped out in front of the log fire.
‘I’m going home,’ she said in an agitated voice. ‘I can’t be here…’ Panic raced through her veins. The very idea of seeing Sam made her stomach muscles go into spasm. ‘How could you, Hope?’ She drew a deep, shuddering breath and glared at her sister.
‘It wasn’t intentional.’ This much was true, but when she’d realised Lindy would be here she hadn’t altered the arrangement. Part of her had hoped that they would both have come to their senses by now. She realised that she’d badly miscalculated. ‘What the hell did he do to you, Lindy?’
‘That’s what I’d like to know,’ Anna said, getting to her feet.
‘What would you like to know?’ Her husband had replaced his suit with cream chinos and an open-necked shirt. ‘Hi, Hope,’ he said casually. He coped with the presence of an international supermodel on his sofa without a flicker of surprise. He wasn’t as casual as he kissed his wife. ‘I hope you haven’t done anything stupid today.’ He lovingly patted the bulge under her baggy shirt. ‘I caught this woman heaving around packing cases in the attic yesterday.’
‘Don’t fuss, Adam. It’s the nesting instinct.’
‘It’s insanity,’ he corrected her firmly.
‘Sam Rourke is coming here,’ she told her husband dramatically.
It became clear to Lindy that Anna had, predictably, shared what information she had with her husband. The menace on his face spoke volumes. ‘Is he indeed?’
‘Take that look off your face, Adam Deacon! I can’t cope with macho posturing just now.’
After the initial shock, Adam looked more interested than offended by this sharp reprimand. This wasn’t the Lindy he knew speaking.
‘I don’t need you, or Anna, or anyone else to protect my honour. Sam Rourke means nothing to me except an embarrassing memory.’
‘If you say so.’ It was Anna who replied. She kept the scepticism from her tone with difficulty. The memory of her sister arriving home six weeks ago looking like a victim of shell-shock was still fresh.
‘I do.’
‘In that case there’s no need for you to run away, is there? Stay for supper as we planned.’
Lindy regarded Anna with dislike. Refuse and she instantly negated her previous claim, and Anna knew it. ‘If you like.’ She rose to the unspoken challenge and gave a casual shrug.
She was glad nobody knew how hard it was for her to look unconcerned. Inside she was screaming, but she wasn’t going to disgrace herself and start gibbering like the idiot she was. How could you love someone who had proved himself rotten to the core? she wondered bleakly. What was wrong with her? She’d lost her sanity over a pretty face—he was a chameleon, all things to all people, but underneath there was no substance. The sound of Adam’s pager stopped her bitter reflections.
He picked up the phone. ‘Deacon here.’ He nodded several times, glanced at his watch and said, ‘Fifteen minutes,’ before replacing the receiver.
‘I take it there’s one less for supper?’ his wife observed philosophically.
‘A bad RTA’s just come into Casualty. At least four orthopaedic consults, so it’s likely I’ll be in Theatre until—well, it could be any time.’ He bent and kissed Hope’s cheek. ‘Sorry to run out on you.’ He smiled at Lindy with a quizzical expression in his green eyes. ‘Macho posturing,’ he said admiringly. ‘I expect you were taking notes, love?’ he murmured to his wife.
Anna linked her arm with his. ‘I don’t recycle old material,’ she chuckled warmly as they left the room.
‘Has Sam asked…asked about me?’ Lindy bit her lip and wished the words unsaid. She darted an embarrassed look at Hope’s face.
‘Oh, Sam’s hardly had time to say more than two words to me. He’s hitting every nightspot, and I’m not just talking local here; the man’s been crossing time zones to party. Even Lloyd is worried about overexpo-sure,’ she reflected drily. ‘When he’s not partying he takes off on that boat of his. I’m an eight-hours-a-night girl myself, but I suppose you can fit more in if you cut out sleep altogether.’
‘Are you trying to imply this has something to do with me?’ She knew Sam would have got her out of his system long ago. She’d replayed his parting shots often enough in her head—‘uptight, cold bitch’, he’d called her. No, he was probably just reverting to type. It was a source of constant irritation that Hope considered him one of the good guys. Part of her longed to disillusion her sister, but that would mean raking up old memories of her own.
‘I’d say he’s a man who doesn’t want to sit still long enough to think. Tell me, Lindy, how are you sleeping?’ Hope asked slyly.
‘Such subtlety, Hope.’
‘You were so good together.’
Lindy gritted her teeth. She could do without having her sister’s romantic instincts to contend with. ‘If you want romance, Hope, go and find your own. I promise you it’s not so rosy when you’re experiencing it first-hand.’
‘In my experience,’ Anna commented from the door, ‘it’s worth hanging in there.’
‘Give me strength,’ Lindy breathed. ‘I’m surrounded.’
‘We only want you to be happy,’ Hope said softly.
‘You’re mad if you think Sam Rourke is part of that equation!’
‘What did he do to you?’ An
na found it disorientating to see this depth of emotion on her sister’s normally composed features.
Lindy felt cornered by their persistence and good intentions. ‘Nothing to me.’
‘Then what…who…?’ Hope persisted.
‘He has a son.’ The words burst out. ‘That doesn’t get mentioned in the press releases, does it?’ she went on bitterly. ‘Or the fact he doesn’t acknowledge the child, or that he deserted the teenage mother. The irony is delicious, isn’t it?’ she went on in an unsteady voice. ‘I do seem to fall for a very particular type, don’t I?’ She didn’t seem to be aware of the admission she’d just made, but her sisters exchanged knowing glances.
‘Who told you this?’ Hope asked.
The scepticism in her sister’s voice made Lindy round on her furiously. ‘Does that matter?’ she accused. ‘He didn’t deny it!’
‘But he must have given you some explanation,’ Anna reasoned, lowering her enlarged frame into an armchair.
‘Explanation!’ Lindy yelled, looking at her as if she were mad. ‘What reason could justify what he did?’
‘I think you’re too obsessed by your own personal tragedy to be objective or even reasonable about this, Lindy,’ Anna replied. ‘You can’t let the past haunt you, and you shouldn’t confuse every man with Paul.’
Lindy flinched. She felt betrayed by her sisters’ attitude. Why didn’t they just condemn him out of hand? Like you did, a voice in the back of her mind added. Why did they reserve judgement? How could they question her opinion? Didn’t she have enough justification to compare Sam with Paul? The angry questions followed in quick succession through her brain.
They didn’t stop her when she walked angrily from the room. The rain had become a drizzle as Lindy wandered amongst the sweet-smelling herbs of the old-fashioned kitchen garden. She crushed a stem of thyme between her fingers and breathed in the distinctive pungent fragrance.
She wasn’t capable of holding onto anger for long. Eventually she cooled down enough to think rationally about her sisters’ reactions. She was objective enough to accept that her reaction to Sam’s past sins had been exaggerated by her personal experience. That didn’t make her response any less valid, though, did it? In fact, she could appreciate better than most just how badly he’d behaved.
Did a man like that ever change, deep down? She doubted it. Should she have listened to his version of events? The thought nagged away at her until she was forced to admit she had been afraid to hear him out. Afraid that in her desperation to be with him she would accept and cling to his excuses, no matter how feeble they were. Women did it all the time—made compromises just to keep the man they loved. She was desperately afraid that she was that sort of woman. But some prices were too high to pay—even for love! She touched the breast pocket of her shirt and felt the outline of a gold stud. She kept it to remind herself how cruel he could be—at least that was what she told herself!
‘Aunty Lindy, Aunty Lindy, do you want to see our worms?’
Lindy blinked away the tears from her eyes.
‘We’ve got twenty-five.’
‘We did have twenty-seven, but a bird got one and we put one under Kate’s pillow, and she killed it.’
‘Girls are stupid.’ They spoke together with a good deal of feeling.
‘I’m a girl.’
‘You’re a lady,’ they contradicted her with impeccable logic.
‘Then how can I refuse an offer like that?’ Lindy took the two muddy hands in hers and was led away.
Two pairs of red wellingtons preceded the twins into the kitchen. A ginger cat with half a tail missing took the wise precaution of removing itself to the top of a pine dresser.
Anna picked up the boots with a sigh. ‘If you ever want any furniture fashionably distressed, don’t bother paying, just leave the item here for a couple of weeks. It’s an entirely natural process.’
‘I’m hungry.’
‘So am I. Who are you?’
‘Sam Rourke. Who are you?’
‘I’m Sam too and he’s Nathan. This is Aunty Lindy.’
‘I know who this is. Hello, Rosalind.’
The breath literally froze in her throat. ‘Sam, how are you?’ Casual acquaintances said things like this, didn’t they? Her hands felt numb as if they didn’t belong to her and her head was extraordinarily light. I will not faint, I will not faint… The black dots that danced before her eyes receded slightly, but the rushing sound in her ears persisted.
‘Is that a professional enquiry, Rosalind?’
The sound of her name on his tongue brought back a rush of memories. It was ludicrous that a word on his lips could arouse her more than any other man’s lovemaking, but she couldn’t deny the power of his voice.
He did look tired and, always lean, he looked to have lost more weight; it emphasised the mean, hungry look. The cynicism in his spectacular eyes seemed more pronounced and the planes of his face more angular. He looked a dangerous proposition, but then he always had been. She had just been blind to the fact.
The light reply wouldn’t come. It congealed in her throat. Her eyes watered with the effort to tear her eyes from his face and beads of sweat broke out over her upper lip. The desire to walk straight into his arms was terrifying, especially since they weren’t held open for her any more—and never would be if the cold lack of interest in his eyes was anything to go by.
‘Won’t you stay for supper?’ Anna kindly stepped into the breach.
‘No!’ The word was horror-filled. Lindy closed her eyes and turned her attention to the twins, who, oblivious to the tension in the room, were playing around her feet. ‘I’m sure Mr Rourke’s too busy.’
Sam regarded Lindy’s down-bent head for an instant. He wanted to punish her and here was a small opportunity. ‘Mr Rourke would love to stay.’
‘See what happens when I’m polite?’ Anna said ruefully.
Sam regarded the slim brunette—slim if you discounted the swollen belly—with surprise. Neither of her sisters seemed amazed that she hadn’t censored the words that had sprung to her lips.
‘Kind people call Anna forthright,’ Hope told him. ‘Her husband calls her—’
‘Not in front of the children,’ Anna interrupted smoothly.
‘Uncle Adam’s coarse and vulgar,’ a youthful voice commented, proving that children had very acute hearing.
‘I like him that way,’ Anna observed, by way of apology.
Sam looked disconcerted, but a shade of amusement thawed the iciness of his expression and Anna began to see what her sister might have found attractive about him—beyond the obvious.
‘Can we show Sam the kittens?’
‘No!’ a chorus of three adult voices replied.
‘If it’s an inconvenience…’ Sam began.
‘Don’t be silly. It’s not every day we have a film star to dinner. Hope hardly counts, you see. I must ask you one favour,’ Anna admitted. ‘An autograph, for the twins’ sister, Kate. She’s got you plastered all over her bedroom wall. She’s doing her Duke of Edinburgh expedition at the moment somewhere in Snowdonia. She’ll be devastated she wasn’t here. Take him through to the sitting room, Lindy. Hope can help me with the food.’
Lindy glared at her sister, who smiled cheerfully back. ‘This way.’ She jerked her head in Sam’s direction. She wished Adam were there. Surely he wouldn’t have been as unfeeling as her sisters? He, at least, would have been immune to the charisma this man exuded.
‘So this is the warmth of British hospitality I’ve heard so much about. Lovely room, nice quirky touches.’ Sam picked up a piece of bleached driftwood that lay on a polished oak chest.
‘Anna’s quirky.’
‘I noticed. Sexy lady.’
Lindy gasped as a stab of jealousy struck her. ‘She’s pregnant.’ Had anyone ever looked at her and thought, Sexy lady? No, of course they hadn’t—she was the uptight, cold bitch. Self-pity welled up inside her. Lindy knew there was nothing overt about her sexuality and s
he wanted it that way. She couldn’t function if she imagined men were looking at her and thinking… A self-conscious flush mounted her cheeks. There had been a time when she’d liked the idea of Sam looking at her and thinking…
‘I noticed that too.’ Sam sat down amongst the tumbled cushions of the large sofa. ‘Do I make you uncomfortable?’
You’d like that, wouldn’t you? she thought, roused from her uncomfortable moment of introspection. ‘It’s never entirely comfortable to be reminded of your mistakes.’ He hadn’t liked that. The flicker of anger had been brief, but she’d seen it.
‘You’re working?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘I’m surprised your employers didn’t apply to me for a character reference, in my capacity as your previous employer. I’d have been quite happy to tell them all I could.’
‘Sorry to deprive you, but Adam, my brother-in-law, is conversant with my medical skills.’
‘And is his knowledge limited to that?’
‘What exactly is that supposed to mean?’
‘Casual curiosity.’
‘It sounded like snide innuendo to me.’
‘You’d know all about that.’ For the first time his feelings were not hidden behind the wall of cold indifference. What she saw made her recoil. His anger was focused and intense and she was the focus!
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
He snorted scornfully. ‘Sure you don’t,’ he drawled. ‘The same way you’ve no idea who told that journalist about Ben.’
‘Ben?’ The confused incomprehension on her face appeared to inflame him further.
‘Yes, Ben, my son,’ he ground out. ‘Surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t realise it was you? How many pieces of silver did you hold out for, Rosalind?’
Lindy was trying desperately to slot the pieces of a puzzle into place. Her head hurt with the effort to concentrate her spinning thoughts. ‘People know about your son?’ The line between her brows deepened.
